The Garden of Eden
by
R.E. Slater
The
garden of Eden has fallen about
with
no tending hands to help it out...
Ontic
debris lay in it's heaps and ruins
and
nowhere was found a sweep or a groom...
The Ancient of Days had left psychic moons
where
all was kept singing fine tunes...
Of ancient dogmas sans deepening wisdoms
astride lost fertile grounds of heavenly keep...
High gallants raged in much fiercer songs
loosing thereupon their hellish throngs...
Years
have passed and years have gone
where
nothing could strive across harsh noise...
Nor lift up hope nor grant resolve
in
kingdoms come and kingdoms gone...
The
hush and quiet of spelled worlds
was
all was left to Eden's eerie silence...
Nestled within distant dells or meadows rung
on the wings of dawn's red dewy morns...
Yet
'listing ears had caught its distant roars
as
passages came and passages went...
Drawing doubtful doubters gathering 'round
deep forest
glens echoing lifting songs...
Of lost men and women, boys and girls
renewing to creation’s balance and rhythms...
Multipart
harmonies reverberating eternity
enlightening, enraptured, creation's atoning soul...
Against
all that was silent, deaf, and mute
to
nurturing moments of remnant ways...
Tattered
lives awash grand mythic sophistries
jigging a piper tune's to glistening hypocrisies…
Thus
and thus life came and went
forgotten,
untended, and fled afar...
Great
lands were lost astride magnificent ruins
mourning the silences moving round and round...
Yet
one may hear enlivening presence
if mending
fallen Eden's concrescing breath....
It comes every morning upon the dawn of each heart
and there stays forever whenever embraced.
It comes every morning upon the dawn of each heart
and there stays forever whenever embraced.
R.E.
Slater
September 10, 2020
@copyright R.E. Slater Publications
all rights reserved
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